


This Place Ain't Big Enough for the Two of Us (Or is it?)

by we_are_the_story



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Awkward Boners, Bickering, But This Is Fiction, Confessions, Crammed in a Locked Closet, Gay Keith, Hide and Seek, I don't know how boners work im a girl, Lance is Attractive, M/M, Rambling, bi lance, i'm sure they don't appear so quickly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 20:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20857475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_are_the_story/pseuds/we_are_the_story
Summary: Keith and Lance get stuck in a closet playing hide and seek in the Castle of Lions. It's not so bad, really.





	This Place Ain't Big Enough for the Two of Us (Or is it?)

Lance tore through the castle, the painful dull thud of his feet smacking against the floor rebounding against the walls in ear splitting echoes. As he approached another corner, his socks lost their grip on the floor and he skidded into the wall. He slammed against it, groaning, and stumbled to a stop at the threshold of the next corridor, lips pursed. Lance squinted down the length of doors and narrowed in on a small supply closet. The door was slightly cracked, enough to show the shelves lining the wall. Smirking, Lance sauntered towards it, and without looking, stepped inside, the door sliding shut behind him.

In the near pitch black, Lance rubbing his palms together, giggling to himself.

“You have _got _to be kidding me,” Keith sighed.

Lance started and shrieked, yelping again as his knee thudded into the door in his attempt to turn around. “Holy _FUCK!” _Lance gasped. He clutched at the fabric of his olive-green jacket and the edge of the closest shelf in a vying attempt to slow his racing heart. “_Keith, _my _man!”_

The darkness made Keith’s eyes appear like black holes, but the light under the door was just enough for Lance to see the angle of his clenched jaw and the slope of his nose.

Not even three inches away.

Lance shuffled backwards barely a centimetre before he collided with the door.

Oh.

Oh, dear.

“Lance.” Keith said, arms folded across his chest. “What are you doing?”

Lance barked out a hysterical laugh, trying to ignore the close proximity. “Oh, you know. . .just hangin’ around,” he squeaked.

Keith raised his brow.

“Uhum, hiding place,” Lance admitted after a minute of silence. “Pidge is counting.”

“. . .I know that,” Keith replied, squinting. “Why do you think I’m here?”

Lance opened his mouth to retort, but paused, frowning. “Wait, what?”

Keith rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “This is my hiding place, I was here first. Find somewhere else.”

“You’re _playing?”_ Lance exclaimed, dropping his hands. “You? Really?”

“It’s a group bonding exercise, why would I lie about it?” Keith said. “Now find somewhere else.”

Lance stared at him for a moment, before throwing his arms in the air. “Ugh, fine,” he said, spinning around again. He pressed his palm to the keypad and—

Nothing happened.

He pressed it again.

“Uhum,” Lance said. “We seem to be stuck.”

Keith’s silence was telling.

Lance chuckled nervously.

“What.” His voice was muffled by the clench of his jaw. Lance could feel Keith huff of frustration against the back of his neck. Lance clenched his fists, fighting the shiver that went right up his spine.

“We. . .uh. . .seem to be stuck. Here. Together.” Lance smacked the panel again, to no avail. “Yep. Stuck. Sorry.”

Keith shuffled, trying to move backwards. His eyes narrowed further as the non-existent space between them remained.

Lance let his eyes wander around the room. Plain shelves surrounded them on all walls, wrapping them in an insulation of boxes filled with what looked like machine parts and bottle caps. He lifted his elbows up at an angle of forty-five degrees from his torso before thudding against the metal. Wincing, he manoeuvred enough to rest his elbows on the shoulder high shelf, next to the screw-looking things. At this height, he had to lift slightly onto his toes.

Keith said, “Why are you doing that?”

“Something to do, I guess.”

“Why aren’t you trying to get us out of here?”

“Why aren’t you?” Lance shot back.

Keith tilted his head and glared up at the ceiling. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What!?” Lance exclaimed, throwing his hands up before flinching as they crack against the shelf above his head. “Ow.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Stop moving so much, then. Besides, _you’re _the one closest to the door.”

Clicking his tongue, Lance shuffled around, arms falling to his sides, and bent a little at the waist to peer at the dark panel.

“Don’t _bend down,_” Keith hissed, shoving at Lance’s hip to push him to the side.

“How am I supposed to look, then?” Lance replied, tapping at the glass and squinted at the sudden brightness. “Hmm. . .”

The Altean numbers and letters were like gibberish to him, so he stabbed at a button with a rune that looked like a cross between the letter Z and the Russian version of ‘ehf.’ The screen turned glaringly orange. “Shit,” Lance muttered, pressing a different button. The screen turned blue again, flashed for a moment, then faded into nothing. “Fuck.” Lance hit the screen gently, and nothing happened. He looked up at the door and cursed again.

Lance shifted to the other side and plant his feet more firmly on the floor, left leg sliding back slightly, splayed his hands against the door and shoved hard. He grunted with the effort and pushed harder, but his palm lost its grip with a squeak and he lost his balance, head nearly colliding with the surface. Lance tried again, somehow maneuvering enough to get his foot on a shelf, his fingers closer to the seal and pulled again, using the friction to try and get the door open by force.

“Fuck!” He cursed as he slipped again, stumbling against the opposite shelves.

He bent down again, ignoring Keith’s hand at his hip when the other boy shoved him to the side again. Running his fingers along the bottom of the door, Lance tried somehow to get the leverage from there, but just ended up straining his knees.

Finally, he stopped, panting, and the door was still closed.

“Well,” Lance said, frowning at the dead screen. “I definitely made it worse.”

He paused.

Ragged breathing filled the silence.

“Keith?” Lance straightened.

“No!” Keith burst out. “Don’t turn around!”

Lance froze, eyes comically wide. “Why not?”

Keith swallowed audibly. “Just don’t.”

“. . .Alrighty, flighty man,” Lance said easily. “You’re so weird, I swear to Quiznack.”

“You’re still using that word wrong,” Keith croaked.

Lance snorted, and an awkward silence followed. A minute passed with no talking, so Lance began fidgeting, fingers wringing. He rolled his shoulders and sighed.

Keith sucked in a breath. “Stop that.”

“Ugh!” Lance said. “But there’s nothing to _do!”_

“Just—stop moving,” Keith gritted out.

“You’re being weird!” Lance argued. “Why are you being so weird? Is it because I accidentally took over your hiding space? I said I was sorry! And why did you have the door open anyway? Anyone could have seen you through the gap.”

“Because a closed door normally means there’s someone in there,” Keith hissed.

Lance opened his mouth, but snapped it shut. “Huh. You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right; I’m always right.”

“Ex-cuse me!” Lance gasped, clutching at his heart. “You are not _always _right! You didn’t believe me when I said I have a sword now! I even beat you once!”

“I let you win.”

“Bull-_SHIT _you did! I—”

Lance’s mouth shut with a crack.

Footsteps. In the corridor.

Lance jumped back, momentarily forgetting the little distance between him and Keith. Behind him, Keith stiffened, and Lance pawed at him before grabbing Keith’s gloved hand in a death grip.

“_Come out, come out, wherever you are. . .” _Pidge sung. Like a creep. “_You can’t hide from me-ee.”_

Keith squirmed, hand clenching and unclenching in an effort to loosen Lance’s hold, but Lance just gripped harder and tugged his arm under Lance’s own to trap it against his torso. Using his other hand Keith shoved at Lance’s shoulder, but Lance just leant back harder, putting his whole-body weight into Keith.

And Keith’s chest shuddered. “Let—”

“Shh!” Lance hissed.

Silence reigned as they waited for Pidge to pass by. Lance huffed and squirmed, just about crushing Keith’s hand with his own. The other boy’s Bayard dug into Lance’s lower back and he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Who takes their Bayard with them playing Hide and Seek? Shifting in place, Lance squished Keith’s arm to his side and used his hand to reach behind him to shove the hard line of Keith’s Bayard from his spine.

Keith’s gasp was loud, and Lance froze, fingers brushing against what was _definitely not a Bayard._

Oh.

Keith’s heavy breathing made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and in the stillness and near pitch-black of the small supply closet, Lance could almost pretend there was nothing else in the world but them.

“_You know, I really don’t think they’re down this end of the Castle, Pidge,” _Hunk called out from farther away.

_“No, I’m sure I saw Lance come down this way,” _she said.

“_Well, Lance normally forgets to turn out lights, so he can’t be in one of these rooms,” _Hunk said.

Lance couldn’t even move to protest that comment.

“_Alright, let’s keep going.”_

They retreated further down the corridor and their footsteps faded.

Lance loosened his grip and spun around, back pressed against the door.

Despite the darkness, Lance could make out the angry angle of Keith’s mouth and the deep crease between his brows; a glare so potent, Lance would retaliate, but the flush on his cheeks, distinguishable only through the barely-there light from the gap between the floor and the door, had Lance swallowing, words dying like ancient stars on his tongue.

“Please don’t say anything,” Keith rushed out, eyes squeezing shut.

Lance’s mouth dropped open, squinting to peer closer. “Alright.”

He watched as Keith’s shoulders slumped in relief.

“Can I _do _something?” Lance blurted out, before his eyes widened in horror and he started hitting the still stubbornly dull panel beside him. “I—that’s not what I meant—I mean that _is _what I meant, but I didn’t mean to say it out loud because that would be weird, not that you’re not attractive—I would totally fuck you—oh shit, no—I meant because we’re a team, you know and that would be weird, and we don’t want to do anything to jeopardise the team—besides you’re straight and I don’t want anything to be weird between us; were were just beginning to get along and—”

“I’m not straight?” Keith interrupted, a questioning lit to his tone.

Lance halted, breath stuttering, hand hovering over the panel. “You’re not?”

“_You’re _not?”

“Um. . .I think there’s been a little miscommunication here—Since when?!” Lance hissed.

Keith said, “Since forever?”

“_Since for_—!” Lance held his hand up and closed in eyes. “So this _whole time—_How did this not _come up?! _Why didn’t you _say _anything?”

“You flirt with girls all the time!” Keith spluttered. “What was I supposed to say: ‘hey Lance, by the way, I’m the gayest gay to ever gay? Are you gay, too?’ No thanks.”

“_Yes!” _Lance said. “Besides I’m not gay, I’m bi! So—take that, Keith! I can flirt with both.”

“You’re so fucking ridiculous,” Keith muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“_You’re _the one with the hard on!” Lance argued, gesturing wildly, narrowly avoiding another collision with the shelves. “For no reason! There’s nothing in here even remotely arousing!”

Keith covered his face. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“It’s only weird metal things and bottlecaps! And it’s so dark!?” Lance gasped. “Oh, no, do you have a mechanics kink or something? Oh, my God, that would be terrible. Coran would have a conniption. Don’t corrupt the hardware! It can’t consent! Or maybe you’ve got an adrenalin kink or something; scared of the dark, are you?”

“You’re in here,” Keith mumbled.

“I know I’m in here!” Lance rolled his eyes. “I’m not that stupid! I’ve been in here the whole—”

Keith watched him blankly before his arms dropped to his sides.

Lance stared back, blinking furiously. “Right. Okay. I _am _in here. And you are in here, with a—thing—because I am. . .” he trailed off, swallowing thickly. He shifted on his feet. “. . .in here, too. Evidently.”

He gnawed on his lower lip as Keith said nothing.

“Right,” Lance repeated. He sucked in a huge breath, held it and said, “So can I?”

Keith pursed his lips. “Can you what?”

“Can I. . .you know. . ._do _something about it?”

“You _want _to?”

Lance sucked in a deep breath. “Um. . .yes?”

“Wha—_why?”_

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“What are you getting out of it?”

“I like you, okay? I don’t really fucking know why, but I _do_.”

Keith’s tense face faltered. “You do?”

“Yes!” Lance whisper-shouted, before he paused. “Actually that’s a lie.”

Keith glowered. “What?”

Lance said, “I _do _know why I like you. I could list all the things about you that give me a raging boner both for my dick and my heart, but we’ll die before I finish, so is that a yes or a no?”

“. . .not here,” Keith said.

Lance blinked. “Not here?”

“Not here.”

“Um, why not?”

Keith sighed. “Because we are currently stuck in a closet playing hide and seek; we don’t know how long its going to be until we can get out.”

“Oh,” Lance said. “Right. Yeah. Good point.”

They stared at each other for a tense moment, each waiting for the other to say something.

“So—”

“Are you—”

Suddenly a loud banging accompanied by a shriek of delight echoed from the other side of the door.

“_HA FOUND YOU FUCK HEADS!” _Pidge hollered, slamming her fist into the metal.

Lance screamed and punched up on reflex.

“_WHAT THE FUCK, LANCE?!” _


End file.
